Flowers for Algernon

Some of you already know the identity of the individual I am referring to below. Out of respect for her anomnynity, I'd ask that you refrain from offering comments that would break the veil of her privacy.

hat do you say when a dear friend, in the prime of her life, is losing her memories, piece by piece to a still-unknown disease? As I listen to her accounts and all I can think about is Charly from Daniel Keyes' Flowers for Algernon and his panicky realization when he realized he was to lose his brilliance in the course of a few weeks and fade into oblivion not soon after. I listen, and I grieve for the death of beauty. I grieve for the loss of the achingly magnificent richness that comprises her mind and inner life.

Pollyanna assurances are hollow and I abstained from offering boilerplate "things will be better" so frequently tossed about in these circumstances. Fate can be inexplicably generous and cruel in turn - and the truth is, nobody knows whether the winds of fortune would drive us toward tragedy or redemption. If I were a religious man, I would say a prayer ... but all I can offer is my best wishes, my friendship, my words of encouragement.

And my hope that they are enough.

Hang in there, you hear? And take comfort in the knowledge that you are loved from far away.